Forever In Your Service
by maverickavenger
Summary: This is the story of the three little miscreants from down the street. How they lived, how they acted, and how they died. [rated for violence and language]
1. Chapter 1

Quick Summary **- **This is the story of the three little miscreants from down the street. How they lived, how they acted, and how they died.

Full Summary - Lock, Shock, and Barrel had always been close. They're high-end families and well-to-do relatives hated them, of course. Generally, this is what had drawn them together in the first place. As they always did, they'd gone out trick or treating one night, pulling pranks and being general nuisances, when they caught the eye of a certain Oogie Boogie out on his annual run. Maybe tonight would be different from the past millennia. Maybe... maybe he'd gain just a bit more than the satisfaction of scarring kids tonight. Perhaps it was time for a change in dynamics

This is the story of three little miscreants from down the street. How they lived, how they acted, and how they died.

Author's Note - Wow. Its... definitely been a while, huh? Well, I've broken out of my Spirited Away addiction and pushed into a more NBC kind of thing. I just can't get enough of Lock, Shock, and Barrel. x3 this is my first story regarding the trio. Well, first written story. I've come up with countless in my head.

Bleh. And by the way, I hate any OCxCannon pairings. Hatehatehate. -stabs them- So. You will see none of that. I had first intended this to be a major Shock x Lock theme, but then I realized I needed to incorporate poor Barrel, and that's where this came in. But yes, there will be lots of Shock x Lock, and occasional hints towards Sally x Jack and maybe a few OC's getting together, just to shove the story along.

Alright, does that cover everything?

I sure do hope so. Hehe. On with the story!

Story-

"God dammit, Sarah, what the hell are you playing at?!"

--

"London, I swear to everyone up there that I will belt you if you try that again!"

--

"Brandon, I will have no more of that foolishness!"

--

The story of their lives.

Amber eyes blazed mercilessly as a fit of swear words and threats were shouted in his face. A rather tanned hand reached up to wipe away spittle that had been tossed into the young man's face, a scowl gracing his pale lips.

"And another thing–"

"Dad, calm down, it was only a little firecracker. Your eyebrows will grow back..."

London couldn't help but snort in attempt to hold in a laugh as his half-brother piped up.

"Brandon, you stay out of this or I'll belt you as well!"

That caused the giggling to cease and the glares to be fired. Like atomic missiles they took off and landed smack dab on Jerry's face, the intensity causing him to hover before he spoke again.

"London, don't you dare look at me that way..."

"Why not, you nasty old son of a bitch? You're not even my real dad!"

That made the entire room go silent. Down the stairs, the small group of partygoers were listening in quite avidly. Brandon, who had been laying on the top mattress of the boys' shared bunk-bed, ceased shoving his face with candy, mid-chew.

Brandon's swallow seemed like a bomb going off. It was a well-learned hint, the loud gulp. Instantly, before any three of the males could react, there was a loud slapping sound as flesh hit flesh, the raw power of the noise making all who listened cringe with pity and fear.

London was knocked to the ground, cradling his now red, hand-printed face. "You crazy bastard! I hate you!" He screamed, scuttling away on his butt with the aid of his free hand, fiery locks being tossed into his face as he shuffled away. Brandon hopped down and landed beside him, landing in a cat-like crouch as he glared at his father.

He shook his head, lips pursed as the older man looked at the two in disgust.

Brandon helped London to his feet and the two ran out the door, down the stairs and out the front door, much to the astonishment and slight relief of the group of less than twenty people. The lavish ballroom seemed to darken a little as the two little imps dashed from the mansion, one's eyes filled with tears and the other's with determination.

Brandon knew they weren't going back that night.

London knew they were never going back at all.

The stocky Brandon and lithe London made expert time to the edge of town, where the rest of the riches lived.

"We gotta find Sarah!" London breathed over his shoulder, turning his head to face Brandon momentarily as they ran, London's long, bright red devil's tale, sewed onto the hem of his pants, streaming behind him.

"But her parents hate us! They'll never let us in to see her!" Brandon exclaimed, distraught the two boys weren't headed for their lovable shack hide out in the woods.

"Then we do what we always do, buddy- we let _ourselves_ in!"

Brandon couldn't help but smile at this, lifting up his skeleton mask for a brief second to wipe his eyes on his sleeve. If Sarah saw him crying, his dad wouldn't make it through the night.

Even worse, he imagined, if she saw the red mark now just barely beginning to fade on London's face.

London still felt the sting of his step-father's hand on his pale cheek, but the pain was washed away when thoughts of seeing Sarah were placed in his head. She could always make things better. He liked to call himself the leader, but she was the backbone. The glue that held them together. The smart one that knew how to fix everything. Surely she'd be able to let them through her side window one more time before they were shipped away for another year at boarding school?

It didn't take them long to reach the faded blue house in question. The pain was old, but the house still screamed poise and perfection. Up in the very top attic window, a light was on, the curtains drawn.

"See? Easy as cake.."

London rested a hand of the ivy ladder, white crosshatched beams reaching all the way up to the second story, and there it ended at the small sill going along the entire width of the house at just the roof of the second floor. It was less than an inch of outcropping siding material, but small, strategic little handholds had been placed into the side of the wall, discreetly hidden beneath the underside of the siding.

It took only a few seconds for London to scale the makeshift ladder and begin his trek to Sarah's window, now opened to the flowing breeze. He pushed down his hood quickly, letting the wind ruffle his untamable locks. Brandon was trailing behind at a slower pace, carefully picking his way through he mess of ivy and wandering across the cliff-like route.

With a bit of a struggle, London reached over and rapped on the glass lightly, three times quickly, and then twice slow.

After a moment of waiting, his hands becoming sore from clutching the handhold, a head popped out of the window. Messy black hair and bright green eyes greeted him, bright red lips displaced with a sloppy grin. "Hey guys." She greeted, holding out a hand to help London into her room. She did the same with Brandon, and soon the three were standing there in her over-the-top pink room.

Her mother had designed it in attempt to bring her out of that 'goth' stage.

Fuck that.

London couldn't help but let his eyes wander a moment. Her black witch's dress suited her nicely, and the hat held limp in her fingers was cute. He recalled it earlier from their previous expedition, trick or tricking, as they called it.

Of course, the group did the treat part, but they preferred to take the candy from those who they believed had wronged them. It was more fun.

Sarah looked at the two. "Alright, what did the bastard do this time?"

It didn't take her long to see the red mark on London's face, though, or the slightly puffy eyes of her now unmasked friend. In fact, both of their masks were pushed onto the top of their heads.

"Oh man, did he hit you guys again?" She asked gently, reaching out to touch brandon's face gently, letting her eyes go from him to London, who was looking away in a rather degraded huff.

Sarah pursed her lips.

"I should strangle that fucker!" She screeched, pulling her hat onto her head, eyes narrowed at the plush pink carpet, hands balled into fists. "How dare he touch you two!"

Sarah wasn't exactly free of her parents either. She once or twice got a good clean smack, or a punch in the shoulder or something, but nothing to the extent of what Brandon and London's father did to them.

She began to march towards the door, gritting her teeth, mumbling incoherent things.

"No, wait, Sarah, don't go over! He'll just smack you around to and then spread lies about you, I don't want that!" London barked, narrowing his eyes and grabbing her hand, the other resting on his mask.

He twisted her around and led her back to the window, talking carefully, motioning casually at Brandon to follow.

"Lets go get some more candy. I hear Brittany Shue is out tonight, in some kind of witch's outfit just like yours. Are you gonna just lay around and take that?"

He knew he was unleashing a hellish fury. It was like having your door busted down by the devil himself and saying 'Hey, Satan! Nice to see yah! Come on in! D'you want a sprite or something?'

"What?!" Sarah exclaimed, suddenly looked ticked off and alarmed. Both at the same time. Such an odd combination.

"If she prances around too much the whole damn school'll think _I_ copied _her_. The nerve.." Sarah's eyes narrowed to dangerous slits and she clambered out the window with grace and expertise, heading swiftly towards the ivy ladder, cursing Brittany and her unoriginality.

Brandon was feeling out of the loop, suddenly. Not that he didn't love his two friends to death, but the way his father had thrown London around like that... it stung. And that he was going to do it to him was worse. Brandon was good at keeping his feelings all bottled up, being the doormat. He kind of enjoyed hearing other people's problems. It kept him from facing his own.

As the he climbed back out the window, London paused, looking back at his younger half-brother.

"Comin'?" He asked gently, recognizing the look on the brunette's face.

There was a silence as Brandon looked up at him, studying him for a second. He had no idea that this was the last time he'd truly look at his half-brother while the two still walked with warm blood.

Brandon gave a hefty, goofy grin and pulled his mask down, his features now hidden by a devilish skeleton grin.

"Hell yeah."


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer - I forgot to put this on my last chapter. -hiss- I do not own anything except the plot, and Brittany Shue. Who happens to be one of the brattiest girls in my school. So... technically, I don't own her either. D

Full Summary - Lock, Shock, and Barrel had always been close. They're high-end families and well-to-do relatives hated them, of course. Generally, this is what had drawn them together in the first place. As they always did, they'd gone out trick or treating one night, pulling pranks and being general nuisances, when they caught the eye of a certain Oogie Boogie out on his annual run. Maybe tonight would be different from the past millennia. Maybe... maybe he'd gain just a bit more than the satisfaction of scarring kids tonight. Perhaps it was time for a change in dynamics.

This is the story of three little miscreants from down the street. How they lived, how they acted, and how they died.

Author's Note - Alright, I'm updating. -confetti and cake- I got two beautiful reviews and I'm so giddy I could just keel over. D I'm trying to get more into the characters, because I'm so used to playing the nice guys. This isn't easy for moi. xD Umm... What else do I need to cover? Oh, from now on, I'll answer all reviews from a chapter at the bottom of it, so you can all see that I srsly pay attention to you.

Have I ever mentioned that chatspeak is, lyk, my best friend?

Mmk. I do believe that's about it...

Sorry this one's so short, by the way. I'm a freshman, trying to keep up on school is hard...

Story -

"Haha! Serves you right, you stupid bitch!"

Sarah's taunting could be heard yards and yards away as the three miscreants laughed and threw small pebbles at the weeping girl, who's dress was mutilated and her pointy black hat thrown askew onto a nearby tombstone. It was almost identical to Sarah's purple one, except Sarah's seemed more elaborate and well-crafted; Brittany's was some wal-mart knock off.

Brittany was, of course, just as rich as London, Brandon, or Sarah. Probably more rich than the three combined, but she too was neglected by her parents, and its hard walking three miles to an outlet mall. The basic wal-mart two blocks down the street was much more accessible to the general public.

A few more laughs and finally they left the mostly unscathed Brittany to cower in fright among a maze of tall out-croppings of carved rock. They looks like the jagged teeth of a monster in the dull moonlight.

High-fives all around, adrenaline gushing through their veins. They began to push and shove each other, the taunting and physical force becoming more and more brutal. Eventually, Brandon saw this and toned himself down a bit. Following suit, Sarah began to shove her mouth with the night's bounty, and London, ever the stupid one, kept trying to push back into it.

But eventually he got tired and the group walked in silence, save for the crunching of candy-corn between Sarah's pearly whites.

Left to their own thoughts, they each began a different direction of process. Sarah was undoubtedly trying to figure out if London was at all comprehending the gentle taps she was giving his hand with her own as they strode down High Street, London was trying to muster up the courage to either grab Sarah's hand of the full-to-bursting bag of candy she clutched in her other, and Brandon has his skeletal hands stuffed in his blackened pockets, mask pulled down to cover his contemplative features.

Some feet behind them, lurking nimbly in the shadows, lay a burlap sack, stuffed to bursting with insects of every kind. His black, soulless eyes carefully examined the young, pre-pubescent humans with a calculating look.

Were they worth it?

He'd taken fully into account their little romp with the older female not ten minutes ago, and on top of that, each of them seemed to have a decent amount of strength for having such small bodies.

Silently rubbing his non-existent facial hair, the creature know as the Boogie Man, or Oogie Boogie back home, narrowed his eye sockets. Slinking out of the shade, the creature began it's descent down the hill towards them. Whenever London or Sarah took a wary glance over their shoulders, he would simply allow himself to go limp, thus taking on the form of some forgotten empty sack being frayed about by the wind.

Ever closer he drew, noticing the smaller boy didn't seem to have a care in the world. Or he was deep in a daydream. Something of the sorts.

The streets were deserted- it was after midnight already, but it was a Saturday, and who would care should these three come home late?

Oogie racked his brain trying to figure out where the group was headed. When he looked up from their swaying bodies, he saw it. The forest. Of course. Why hadn't he realized that? Three little wrong-doers, going back home to plead forgiveness from the folks? Not likely.

Though the foliage would make extremely good cover, he noticed, once again having to silence these thoughts because of a cautious glance from the redhead, who seemed to be sporting some kind of gelled-up horns. The boy's demonic looking tail almost brushed the ground as he walked along- the tip just barely hovering above the cement. He was dressed in a red jumper, it appeared. Interesting.

Was it normal for humans to dress up this way? He knew they may regret it- every being in Halloween Town had died in their current clothing. It wasn't something you could up and change. Boogie, himself, had been thrown in this accursed sack as a boy in the mid 1700's, thrown into a river, a variety of bugs the only thing there with him. So what if he'd talked to an Indian girl?

But anyways, he shook his head to get back on track. The girl, he saw, was wearing some kind of witch's dress. Not at all like those back home- this one was a deep purple with black lace and boots, the girl's silky hair made wild and matted by a various assortment of products, he assumed. Her hat was large and a bag was grasped tightly in her left palm, with what it held Oogie did not know.

And then the third boy. From behind it seemed he was dressed in a plain black outfit, but having done a closer inspection previously, he knew the boy's front to appear as skeletal bones, with a matching mask, earlier pulled atop his spiked, dark brown hair, now was pulled down to cover his naturally pale face.

The trio would make an interesting addition to his assorted treasures, Oogie thought with a smug grin.

And he would have them.

Wether they wanted to serve him or not.

-------+-+-+-------

REVIEW TIME! X3

**Mr. Oogie Boogie -**

Haha, yeah, I'm trying to relate them as much as I can to their undead forms, without putting it to over the top. And thank you, I'll try and get one up at least every week.

**Ranoko -**

Awe, thanks! It took me forever to come up with a name for Lock without actually saying it was him... so yeah... xD

And I'm glad you can relate to my writing, its always good to know you're not the only one thinking something.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer – I don't own anything except the plotline.

Full Summary - Lock, Shock, and Barrel had always been close. They're high-end families and well-to-do relatives hated them, of course. Generally, this is what had drawn them together in the first place. As they always did, they'd gone out trick or treating one night, pulling pranks and being general nuisances, when they caught the eye of a certain Oogie Boogie out on his annual run. Maybe tonight would be different from the past millennia. Maybe... maybe he'd gain just a bit more than the satisfaction of scaring kids tonight. Perhaps it was time for a change in dynamics.

This is the story of three little miscreants from down the street. How they lived, how they acted, and how they died.

Author's Note – Wow, so sorry for the lack of updating. I was grounded and schoolwork is piling up. This chapter is going to be the lead into of death, just so everyone knows. I estimate maybe five chapters to go, and I have the next three planned, so they should be up quick. :3

Story -

Sarah felt an eerie chill run down the length of her spine and instantly gave a nervous glance over her shoulder. Sarah was never one to get nervous, scared, or anything in between. After living with her parents for as long as she had, she'd developed a high tolerance for such things. Even if she did get scared, she refused to show it.  
The look back served to show her only an empty paved street, a burlap bag caught on a loose pebble swaying casually in the light breeze.

As this new breeze became cooler, Sarah wrapped her arms tighter around her chest, rubbing her arms tenderly, breathing out of her mouth and being rewarded with a thin white stream of air.

London instinctively looked over when Sarah began to move out of her normal walking pattern. His amber eyes softened considerably when he witnessed her uncertainty and cold. He himself was growing chilled, but wouldn't let on. He was the strong one of the group. The 'leader'. He had the wit, the charm, and the prowess to do anything he wanted. Not even older kids bugged him, especially when he was with the crew. The three of them combined were a fatal concoction, to themselves and others.

He bit his lip for a moment before slowly, cautiously, attempting to loop an arm around Sarah's shoulders. But when she moved again to hug herself, he withdrew his arm and flinched a little, as though she'd just spat in his face. He breathed out and turned away, sticking his hands in his pockets and trying not to blush, focusing his attention on Brandon.

Brandon was happy as a clam now that they were away from the houses and had let out some extra steam. Brittany was always a good vent. You'd think she'd learn her lesson after a few rocks to the head, but he guessed not. Perhaps it was the pretty ones who were the dumbest?

No, that couldn't be true. Sarah was pretty, right? He spared a second to look up at Sarah, who's pale cheeks were stained a rosy red by the cool night air, and who's ebon hair flowed gently on the draft she created as she walked, eyes half-lidded to protect from the oncoming stream of oxygen.

. . . So that proved it. Only _most_ pretty girls were dumb.

He snapped out of his reverie when he sensed movement from London. That smoky amber gaze now located on Brandon's own tanned complexion, now revealed due to the lack of mask, now located in his left hand, delicately clutched between his thumb and pointer finger.

"Uh.. London, what's up, dude?"  
The question seemed as random as shooting an arrow at a person's head, minus an apple.

The trio suddenly stopped in their tracks. Was that . . . _laughter_? It was only a split-second sound, carried on the whispering wind to their cold ears. All three stood rigid, as if nailed to the spot. Helplessly, they all turned their heads to simultaneously look at the deserted street behind them. Nothing. Even that stupid burlap sack must have freed itself from the pebble's grasp.

"I'm not the only one who heard that, right?" London inquired, eyes still on the street, as if waiting for some laughing figure to emerge from the moonlit pavement.  
"Yeah… yeah, I heard it too!" Sarah said, moving subconsciously closer to London. She wasn't afraid. No, she wasn't nearly as afraid as she was confused.

Who would follow the three most notorious trick or treaters in the tri-county area in the middle of the night?  
Brandon was silent, blue eyes shining bright as he tried to analyze the situation. Something wasn't right, and a strange feeling began to rumble in the pit of his stomach.  
Something was very, very wrong.

---xx---

The three cuddled around a burning fire pit as they tried to keep warm, each tending to their own thoughts. They were located in their treehouse, built specifically by a few family friends. It took a lot of favors, but they did it.  
It was utterly fantastic.

It had two stories; built into the largest oak tree in the forest. The top floor was the practical stuff- a kitchen and living area, which included a stove top built into a counter, which looped around the kitchen and through a medium sized fridge, and in the center was a table, a sink underneath a large picture window. In the living area there was a circular indentation about five feet down into the floor, which was encompassed on the interior with couch, and in the center was a raised fire pit, lined with bricks. On the first floor there were three small bedrooms, each with a plush mattress and dresser full of clothing.  
It was their sanctuary. Their only safe haven.

It was fully insulated, but still took a long time to heat up, and so the group shivered and shook for perhaps an hour before finally relaxing into the couch.

"That… laughing.." Brandon began, eyes downcast as he wrapped a thick blanket around his shoulders, completely covering his small body, revealing only his head. Sarah and London turned away from their staring match to gaze interestedly at Brandon.

"It wasn't human… something about it gave me the worst feeling I've ever felt. Ever. Guys… I don't feel safe. Not even here."  
His words stung Sarah's heart and severely pierced London's. He had truthfully expressed what the two of them were feeling in words they had never thought to use.  
Sarah opened her mouth to speak, but suddenly a brash wind blew from the doorway and destroyed any heat out of the room instantaneously.

"He-_llo,_ my children."

---xx---

Draigcoch-

XDD Gee, thanks. I appreciate that. I'm glad my style of writing can give you that kind of picture.

Ranoko-

Lol, you're so funny. XD I promise, if you like the way this is going, you'll love what I'm gonna do in the next few chapters.


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note; I'm sorry for the lack of updating guys, my bad. -cringes from tomatoes- Not gonna put all that other stuff up, beeecauuusee I'm lazy. ;3 This is the last chapter, my friends! I repeat: **This is the LAST chapter!** No more after this, but I'd be happy to hear reviews pushing for a sequel... ;3 Oh, and by the way, while examining the character I discovered that they all had a rather unique skin tone and lip color, which tuned me in. originally I only noticed it with Lock, who's lips were blue, eyes rimmed red, and his skin was very pale, which all went hand in hand with -pokes Lock's death-. Then I saw Shock, who had pale skin also but very scraggly hair and dark circles around her eyes, which complimented blood loss, I think. And Barrel always wears a turtle neck, so, why not?

I own nothing but the plot.

Story;

"Uhg... Where the hell are we?" London asked, soft golden eyes flickering open to survey their current position. He felt something soft beside him and looked over to see Sarah, wide awake and clutching to him as though her very life depended on it. "London! Ohmigawd, London, whatever you do, don't. Look. Up." She said, and it was then that he felt the warmth of moisture soaking his shirt where her head rested and came to a few rather unnerving conclusions.

The first was that Sarah had been awake long before him and had been crying into his shirt. The second was that they were not at the treehouse at all.

The third was that tears weren't red.

He looked down and was confused to find tear streaks on Sarah's face. So where was the red coming from? It was a dark color, much more rich than that of his hoodie. When her advice suddenly clicked into place, though, he paled. And like in a bad horror movie, he looked up, only to see Brandon's grinning mask dangling above him. He breathed a sigh of relief, grateful that it wasn't that thing that had greeted them before his memory went blank.

But then Brandon's mask fell away and London resisted the urge to scream.

For on Brandon's neck, the collar of his turtle-neck pulled down, was dripping blood. His windpipe had been brutally sliced open. Barrel's mask fell in almost slow motion, landing next to London's face and rocking back and forth on it's smoothed face for a brief second before halting to stare at him with empty eyes and a cold, lifeless smile.

London looked away, latching onto Sarah around the waist and pulling her close, sitting up with her to look around, only to be met with a pair of big, black eyes.

"Helloooo, my dearest little children. Are we finally awake?" He asked in a sing song voice. London trembled beneath his stare but finally found his voice.

"Who are you? And why did you kill my brother?!" He screamed, tears pricking at his eyes as Sarah cuddled into him. But the sack noticed this and snatched at her, ripping her away. She screamed and kicked, thrashing at the bag's incredible strength.

"Sarah!" London exclaimed, lunging forward to rescue her but finding himself caught, his feet chained below him and padlocked to a piece of metal sunken in concrete. He feverishly yanked at it, desperate to help his beloved friend as he watched the Boogie Man take his time with watching in amusement, holding the girl as though she were a rag doll.

"Tsk, tsk. Y'know, I got a little impatient waiting for you three to wake up, and when only the little fat boy over there did, I decided to have a little fun. It's a shame you couldn't see it, but I suppose you did in the end, anyway.." He cooed, glancing up at the dead boy suspended above where London had been laying previously.

"And come to think of it.." He held out Sarah, dangling her just out of London's reach. "I think that this will be even more fun."

He laughed a fiendish laugh, something far to malicious to be considered happy. It sounded like he really_ was_ enjoying this.

"Let her go! Please!" London screeched, still yanking on his chains.

"What is a suitable death for a witch of your caliber, little lady?" Boogie purred into the girl's ear. "Hmm? Nothing to violent, no, no, no, that's much to horrible for such a pretty face. I'm at a loss for words. What would you say?"  
Oogie uncovered Sarah's mouth, having put his fingerless hand over it to keep her from crying out previously.

"London! Help me!" She half begged, half sobbed, more tears running down her face. She had seen poor Brandon, but she had also seen the various other dead strung up on the walls.

"Oh! I have an idea! To keep such lovely features lovely, how about we make this short and sweet, hm?"

He turned a corner and threw her. She was flung through the air and towards and open mummy case which had razor sharp spikes inside, only the head had soft velvet lining. She made no sound, but her eyes met London's as the case closed with a bang.

London shook, his eyes wide and fearful.  
"You animal... No... Sarah.." He sputtered, his thoughts scattered. His whole life was falling apart right in front of his eyes. Brandon, Sarah, both gone. The only two things he wanted, the only two things he cherished. Dead.

"You disgusting animal!" He yelled, standing up and lashing out at Boogie, who was ten feet away. "I'm going to kill you!" He screamed, his voice going up in pitch.

"No, no, my boy. You are going to work for me." Boogie took a step forward and his foot sunk into the ground as if to push a button and suddenly London was very cold. He looked up and saw he had fallen through some kind of crack in a bowl of ice, and the hole was rapidly filling in with more ice. He swam upwards, choking and gasping for air, but he was being dragged down. Down, down, down into some black abyss he could not see the end of. He looked at his ankle and found the chain still holding him to the block of concrete, pulling him downwards with it's wait. He let out one final scream before watching as the hole was no more.

And like all those who came before them, the three entered the service of Oogie Boogie, forever held under his spell.  
Well, until, of course, the story took such a turn with Jack.  
The day that it snowed in Halloween town was the day that the trio awoke.  
The day is snowed in Halloween town was the day they began to remember.


	5. An Epilogue

The only thing he could remember were her eyes, and the incredible horror they'd expressed. They were big and green, but not like the emeralds she sometimes wore at the fancy parties her mother hosted. No, he'd always thought her eyes were more like grass. Soft and gentle, and as flickering as a candle's flame, alight with emotion. Sometimes he would catch them with his own strangely amber-colored ones, and fireworks would ignite in his stomach. He'd read books and seen shows on television, and they all said that love was for adults, never children. Children who feel in love always managed to find themselves being separated by circumstances outside their control. So, he'd bit back his tongue. When they were older, he'd told himself. When they were older, he would tell her how much he loved her. They'd get married and move far away from their painful upbringings, and live in a house in the woods, just like Sarah had sometimes spoken of. Then her green eyes would flicker only in happiness, and always towards him. It was his dream, and it had been cruelly denied.

The three had died before their time. Brandon had only just turned eight. Sarah had celebrated her eleventh birthday in August, and London had been due to turn twelve just a few days into November. After their deaths, their souls wandered aimlessly for days, all together, without word or recollection as to what the world around them was, only that they needed to remain together. They went back to their homes to find mixed feelings about their disappearances. Apparently the tree house had been torn apart in the search for them, Brandon and London's mother was in a complete fit. She had broken down, sobbing constantly, refusing to eat. Their step father refused to acknowledge that the boys had even existed, having their belongings destroyed. Their names were forbidden to be spoken in the household. Sarah's family, however, was almost relieved. Now that Sarah, the mistake, was gone, they could focus more on what really mattered to them. The number of parties they hosted increased, and they used the publicity their daughter's disappearance gave them to garner even more attention.

"It's all so tragic, really! We just wish we could find the terrible beast responsible!" Her mother would cry, dabbing at her moist eyes with a handkerchief.  
"The utter brutality with which the children were found to have been slain it still under investigation." Television reporters announced before moving on to the next story.  
"I can only hope that my darlings have found their way to the other side..." Their mother would sob to herself in the empty room that used to belong to her two sons.

They watched as their bodies were buried in separate locations. Sarah was placed beside a swamp, where the foul water eventually leaked into her cheap coffin and ate away at her beautiful face. Brandon and London were placed beneath an oak tree, whose roots pushed their way into their boxes and used them as food to feed it's growth. Eventually, there was nothing left of the three miscreants that hardly anyone really missed at all.

The day they woke up in Halloweentown was a joyous one, the celebration of welcome, one that allowed new spirits to ease themselves into the gruesome atmosphere that was the ancient city, responsible for the up-keeping of the infamous All Hallows Eve. London, Brandon, and Sarah watched as four men and women dug their way out of the chalky dirt and were embraced by the frightening townspeople. They held hands together as they were overlooked, standing quietly on the cliff-side of the lair they would soon call their master's, starring in silence as the graveyard slowly emptied and parties begun, intending to last well into the night.

Finally, one spoke.  
"Who are we?" His voice was raspy, and higher than it should have been. There was a scar on this throat, covered by his turtleneck. Absent-mindedly, the young boy reached up to touch the wound that had been sloppily sewn shut. It no longer hurt, as it had before. He looked over at his companions, and the faint inkling of kinship tickled the strings that kept his heart together, a heart, he had not noticed, that no longer beat. There was silence as the other two considered his words. The girl looked down at herself and saw that her clothing showed no signs of the horror she felt nagging at the back of her mind, the horror she knew was responsible for her death. She released the small boy's hand and pulled her collar forward. It fell back against her chest with a faint rustle as she fought back tears. The older boy with flaming red hair watched in an outer-body experience as he wrapped his arms around her. Without noise, the three shook and cried.

"You are Lock, Shock, and Barrel. And you are my children. I saved you from the painful life you were living to bring you here. There is only one catch, and that is that you must work for me." The voice was a tremendous bass that vibrated in their chests. Each knew their name as soon as it was said, but the question of their slavery was a question they could hardly retain. It was answered, thankfully, before any of them could act on it. "All of the townspeople have done it, as a right of passage. Though Skeleton Jack is their King, I am the gatekeeper." His lie was not entirely incorrect, though the falsity overruled the truth. His words, however, were all truth to the children, who knew no other reality than that which was told to them by their master. The tail that was attached to Lock's jumpsuit gave a feverish twist as an evil grin trickled over his face. He released the girl with a rough shove and took away the hat from atop her head. She cried out in a feral screech, while the younger boy began to roll with laughter.

Their faces had changed, gradually, over the past days, without their noticing. Lock became pale, with angry blue circles around his eyes. Fangs sprouted from where his canines should have been, and his fingernails became sharp and angry. Shock's hair, which had once been silky and beautiful, have become stringy and unhealthy, the strands crisp to the touch. Her nose had enlarged as her face became shallow and thin with malnourishment, and her eyes became tired and devoid of the life London had once compared them too. Barrel had fattened, and had a seemingly never ending supply of candy stuffed into the pockets of his clothing. His teeth were yellow and chipped, his skin festering with some kind of disease that his body had absorbed in the ground where it was buried. They were no longer children who wanted a future away from the lives they hated. They had become slaves to a curse they didn't know existed.

The evil chuckle became a full blown maniacal laugh as the burlap sack called Oogie Boogie threw his head back and soaked in the victory. The children began to wrestle, digging evil marks into each other with their fingernails and teeth, Barrel had even joined in. The scene was loathsome and horrible, but the pain of the full story known would be crippling. The children would never remember everything, but the day it snowed in Halloweentown and Boogie was destroyed, many things changed for the young trio.

After many years of servitude, perhaps, one day, London would see grass in Sarah's eyes again.


End file.
